Why Running Away Never Works — Letters from a Stoic

Travel doesn't fix what's wrong with you. You take it with you. Letter 28 addresses Lucilius's restlessness directly: no matter how far he goes or how many cities he passes through, the trouble follows, because the trouble is him. Socrates made the same point to a man who complained that travelling hadn't helped: 'Why do you wonder? You always take yourself with you.' The cargo that shifts in a ship's hold doesn't stop being a problem just because the ship changes course.

Seneca isn't opposed to travel. He's opposed to the belief that location can solve a problem of the soul. If you're at peace inside, every place becomes hospitable. If you're not, the most beautiful destination in the world will irritate you within days.

His counsel is to stop being a bondsman to any one place, but also to stop expecting any new place to save you. 'This whole world is my country.' Live in that belief, and you're free anywhere. The letter closes with a line from Epicurus that Seneca calls noble: the knowledge of sin is the beginning of salvation. The man who doesn't know he has sinned doesn't want to be corrected.

Some even boast of their faults, cataloguing their vices as if they were accomplishments. The starting point isn't resolution, it's honest accusation of yourself.